Bumped Into Love
by OhhhSkyler
Summary: AU/AH. When Renee dies from a car accident, Bella is sent to live with her rich father Charlie. When forced to go to a party next door, she bumps into-literally-the most gorgeous, genuine guy there. Will sparks fly? Or is it trouble? - NO LONGER FINISHING
1. Preface

**Summary:** AH/AU. Bella's mom, Renee, got in a car accident while going on her date with Phil, her current boyfriend. Because of this, Bella is sent to live with her rich, police chief father in Forks, Washington. Much to her dismay, she's forced to go a party at her neighbor's home where she bumps into—literally—the most genuine, gorgeous guy there.Will sparks fly? Or will trouble occur?Crappy summary, crappy title, I just hope it's better than it sounds. All usual pairings. First Twilight fanfic.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Twilight, do you really think I'd be writing my own little fantasy's about it? I think not.

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**I'm reading blond jokes, they're hilarious. I even saw Jacob's mirror-at-the-bottom-of-the-ocean one from Breaking Dawn. :D Haha. I think I should put a joke at the end of every chapter...what do you think? XP**

Chapter 1

Bumped Into Love

Song – Gotta Be Somebody by Nickelback

**Bella POV**

Mom is going out with Phil again tonight. It's the forth time this week. It's not as if I don't like him or anything, because I do, really, it's just that he's all my mother talks about these days. Phil this, Phil that. Every other word I hear out of her mouth is, of course, Phil. '_Aw, flowers, Bella! He gave me flowers! He's so sweet.' 'Oh honey, I hope you find a man as great and wonderful as Phil!' 'Phil's the one, I'm sure of it!' _I'm happy she found someone she loves who verily treats her kind, but it's getting quite annoying.

I don't think I'll ever be able to fully comprehend how girls can become so obsessed and in love with a guy. I mean, it's _just_ a guy. Us woman are strong and independent; we don't need a _man _to make us feel that way. Especially since most of them are worthless scumbags and just want to get in our pants.

I've never had feelings for a guy before, and I don't think I ever will. No guys—or girls, for that matter—pay attention to me, the shy, nerdy, plain Bella Swan. I understand why though, I'm not a very interesting person. I'm honestly quite boring; my idea of a fun time would be picking up my tattered copy of Wuthering Heights. If I were to ever date, which is highly unlikely, I'd want it to be someone like Heathcliff. Passionate, mysterious, dark... I could do without all the cursing though.

"What do you think of this, honey?" I was sitting on my mother's bed, helping her pick out an outfit for tonight. As of why she asked for my opinion, I had no clue. I have no taste in fashion, so it doesn't make much sense. My theory is that she started feeling guilty about spending all of her free time with Phil and wanted to make up for it.

She walked out of the bathroom in a baby blue silky loose halter top that tightened from elastic at the bottom. It brought out her shimmering blue eyes, and her dark skinny jeans made the blue pop even more. Her short, brown hair was down and wavy. She was—_is_ absolutely beautiful. Not that I would tell her, but I've always been somewhat jealous of her looks. Guys practically throw themselves at her, unlike me where guys seem to flee at the mere mention of my name.

"You look great mom." _As usual_, but I didn't feel the need to add that. She must have noticed the partially bitter tone in my voice, though, because she gave me a look that asked "_Did I do something wrong?" _but she didn't act upon it, which I was thankful for. But she really did look absolutely radiant, and it almost looked as if she had a certain glow to her. I made my voice sound more enthusiastic and complimented her once again. "Really, you do, mom. You look positively stunning; you should definitely wear that. Phil won't know what hit him."

She grinned and walked over to her bed, gave me a quick kiss on my forehead, and said a soft thanks. "I'm going to go finish my makeup. If Phil comes, will you answer the door for me?"

"Of course, mom, you didn't even need to ask. I'll do anything for you." I whispered the last sentence. But the thing is, she doesn't know what exactly it applies. My mom is my best friend, my other half so to speak. I don't know what I would do without her; I would die for her. She's the one that keeps me sane and living. She brought me in to this world, and I'll take myself out for her. Simple and easy as that.

When she went back into the bathroom, I laid down on her bed and started counting the popcorn kernels on the ceiling. I got to sixty-seven when the doorbell rang. Phil's here. "I'll get it!" I yelled to my mother. I think I heard her yell a thanks, Bells, but I was already out the door and running—or should I say tripping?—down the stairs and to the door.

"Hello, Phil. Come on in," I smiled. Even though he looked a little nervous, which I have no clue as of why, he smiled sincerely right back at me and through the door and into the house. "Mom is just finishing getting ready. I'll go tell you you're here."

"Thank you, Bella," he smiled again, showing his dimples that made him look even younger than he is now. His blue, piercing eyes were filled with anxious excitement.

I informed my mother that Phil was here and she said she would be down in a minute. But since I know my mom all too well, I told Phil she'd be down in about ten. Possibly even longer, knowing her.

He thanked me again, and, after I offered for him to, sat down on our yellow couch. It was a bright, sunshiny yellow. Mom thought it would bring us cheer every morning. I felt as if it did anything but. It's just a little to standout-ish for my liking, and definitely not something I would pick out for myself.

I stood in from of Phil feeling utterly awkward. Mom usually answered the door always dressed and ready, so I didn't know quite what to do. Do I start a conversation or offer him something to drink or just let him be?

Being as he was in my house as a guest, I felt obliged to say something, _anything_. I just didn't know what to say. But torturing ourselves with small pointless small talk would be better than torturing ourselves with silence.

I hadn't needed to worry on how to start the conversation, though, because it was Phil who began it. "May I speak with you, Bella? I'm glad it was you who answered the door, because it's something rather important. And I think Renee would suspect something if I asked to talk to you before we left."

Since I'm a loser and became dumbfounded—though in my defense, I don't know what could be so important that Phil needed to talk to me about—I merely nodded in response.

"It's about your mother..." he trailed off, unsure on how to begin. "This is usually something you would ask the girls' father, but—I love your mother very much, Bella. I love her more than life itself, and I want to spend every waking moment possible with her. So, with your permission, I would love to ask for Renee's hand in marriage? I know we've only been together a few months, seven to be precise, but I know she's the one. She has to be, otherwise life would have no point. I love her; she loves me. And we both want to spend the rest of our lives together, and we've been discussing marriage anyway. I just didn't want to go too fast, ya know? But I realize with Renee that's nearly impossible. I have to act fast, otherwise some other man might try snatching her away from me. Especially since she's go-go-go all the time, that crazy, fantastic woman. And I wanted to make sure you were okay with it first, too."

I realized my eyes widened sometime during Phil's little "speech"—it's not a speech, I know, but I have no clue on what else to call it—but I don't know why. It's not as if I wasn't expecting it sooner or later, what with mom's talk about him being _the one_. And I like Phil, I could see him as my step-father.

How fast he said it was what shocked me the most. It was all in one breath. I had a feeling his "speech" would have been even longer if he didn't need oxygen in his lungs to survive. It was the most I've heard him say at one time. You wouldn't believe it, but he's extremely shy. Even shyer than I am, and that's a very difficult task to fulfill.

Phil face became any more nervous and I realized I haven't said anything yet. But what _should_ I say? I might as well say something, though, anything would work. "Um, my p-permission? To marry my mother?" Phil nodded slowly and his face had become even more anxious, if possible. It looked as if he was about to faint. "Well, uh, you didn't need to ask me if it was okay, but, um, but I like that you did?" It came out as more of a question. "O-of course you can ask her."

Phil grinned from ear to ear, making him look like a little kid who was going to meet Santa for the first time. It was then when mom walked into the room. Phil and I both looked to her and he spoke before giving her a little kiss, "Hey, babe. You seriously look fantastic. Are you ready?" Absolutely was her response.

Once my mom told me to have fun and to not wait up for her, they left.

I still couldn't believe Phil was going to ask mom to marry him, and he was most likely gonna ask her tonight. It was just so surreal. It was also something I wasn't looking forward to, because then it meant shopping. Dress shopping, shoe shopping, looking for a place to have the wedding shopping, just about any kind of shopping you could imagine.

I would also have to shop for a dress, already knowing I would be the maid of honor, which makes it even worse. Because then I would actually have to wear a dress...and most likely high heals. I groaned and rolled my eyes at the idea. _Great. _

Knowing my luck I would ruin the whole wedding and everyone would hate me. I don't know how I could, but for me, it's very possible.

I went upstairs to change into my pajamas. They're very simple, like my personality. Just plain plaid blue pajamas and a baggy gray shirt. Once I was changed into my bed clothes, I did the rest of my nightly routine, such as brushing my teeth and washing my face.

I then went back downstairs to watch a movie. I decided on Romeo & Juliet, the 1996 version with Leonardo deCaprio. One of my favorites. While the previews were rolling, I went into the kitchen to fix my supper. I decided on regular Cap'n Crunch, I just couldn't resist the deliciousness of it, and I wasn't in the mood to cook something.

As the movie was nearing to an end, I couldn't help but think back to the words that Juliet had spoken earlier, "_And when I shall die, take him and cut him up in little stars, and he will make the face of __heaven so fine that all the world will fall in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun._" It reminded me of mother and Phil, how they will love each other until they become decaying and crippled, how they could just sit in silence and be perfectly content. I can only hope to find a love like that one day...

The thought alone made me sigh. I was never going to find my someone, and I should be able to respect that now, but I can't. I guess it's my hopes that keep making me come back to loneliness and disappointment.

I usually end up waiting for mom to come home, but tonight wasn't a normal night. I decided to let them do as they please and to just go to bed. She probably wouldn't arrive until morning anyway. I was heading upstairs, but before I was all the way up something stopped me.

The doorbell rang for the second time that night, and most certainly the last. I was pretty sure it was my mom, and for some odd reason came home early (and forgot her keys..._again_). But I kind of hoped it wouldn't be. I was secretly wishing it would be James, the major hottie—not saying that I think he is—at Phoenix Union High School, the school I currently attend. (Though that would never come true because he didn't even know of my existence, and I would probably just end up shutting the door in his face anyway.) But the person behind the door was someone I assuredly wasn't expecting, and someone I definitely did not want there.

I suddenly wished it was my mother.

So I'll be holdin' my breath  
Could this be the end?

**Gotta Be Somebody by Nickelback**

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**I would love reviews, but they aren't necessary. I would like a few, though, just to know that people are reading and enjoying the story, and if I should continue or not. But just so you know. . .**

**Reviews are better than Romeo climbing up onto your balcony and reciting his unconditional love for you!**

**Happy [late] Christmas! I hope it was as excellent as mine was—(because watching movies all day is severely enthralling). And yes, the happy was necessary. Gotta do it like them Potter folk! (That's what she said). And have a very Culle****ntastic 2009 new year!**


	2. Party Time

**Summary: **AH/AU. Bella's mom, Renee, got in a car accident while going on her date with Phil, her current boyfriend. Because of this, Bella is sent to live with her rich, police chief father in Forks, Washington. Much to her dismay, she's forced to go a party at her neighbor's home where she bumps into—literally—the most genuine, gorgeous guy there.Will sparks fly? Or will trouble occur?Crappy summary, crappy title, I just hope it's better than it sounds. All usual pairings. First Twilight fanfic.

**Disclaimer:** No, I do not own Twilight.... -le sigh- These disclaimers make me depressed.

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**For those who reviewed, you make my life complete. Seriously. I was expecting maybe one or two reviews, but double digits?! You guys rock my calcetines off! I also want to thank you for all of the favorites and alerts, they make me extremely happy. And **shininglights**, your awesomeness completes me more. (:**

**I'm so friggin' sorry it took me so long to write this! I'm just going to warn you know that I won't be able to update very fast. I'm starting to get a crap load of school work, and if I want my mom to pay for my hopefully trip to Germany with my sister this summer, I need to start working on and getting scholarships. _Ew_. If not, I'd have to pay 50/50. Also, I'm going to Mexico on Friday, and I still haven't started packing, but I was determined to finish and upload this before I left. So here it is.**

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Chapter 2

Bumped Into Love

Song – Your Call by Secondhand Serenade

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Previously...

_The doorbell rang for the second time that night, and most certainly the last. I was pretty sure it was my mom, and for some odd reason came home early (and forgot her keys..._again_). But I kind of hoped it wouldn't be. I was secretly wishing it would be James, the major hottie—not saying that I think he is—at Phoenix Union High School, the school I currently attend. (Though that would never come true because he didn't even know of my existence, and I would probably just end up shutting the door in his face anyway.) But the person behind the door was someone I assuredly wasn't expecting, and someone I definitely did not want there._

_I suddenly wished it was my mother._

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**BPOV**

It's been almost three weeks since that unfaithful accident, and I've been living with Charlie in his huge, beautiful abode in Forks, Washington. His house is the most enormous, magnificent one I've ever seen, but I still surprisingly feel at home. I don't feel like I'm all alone like I usually do in houses like these, _huge_. It's just so big and spacious; it's modern but it makes you feel as if you're living in a fairytale.

It has seven bedrooms, all different styles and designs. My room has walls the color of dark red, and the bedding is golden with a gold canopy attached. It has the most marvelous kitchen—all metal appliances, with deep mahogany cupboards, and there's three massive bathrooms.

It's indubitably magical.

I still haven't told Charlie the whole story about Renee and Phil. I'm not ready for that step yet. I mean, it _was_ a life-changing situation. Could you blame me?

But tonight isn't like any normal night. It would seem like a typical, average night to anyone who didn't know me personally or hasn't lived with me, but it isn't. I usually take a shower, change into my pajama's, and finish the night with my current read. But oh no, not tonight. Tonight Charlie was making me go to a party. Yes, a party, with boys and irresponsible teens. Definitely something I would never go to, ever. He said something about "mingling with your peers." Whatever. It's not like I'll talk to anybody anyway.

So, here I am in the shower at the usual time getting ready for the shindig that won't be any fun in the first place. Just for Charlie. I could have said I didn't want to go, but I felt as if I should do something for him. He _is_ the one that took me in. Well, he is my father and lawful guardian, but still...he has a life of his own, what with his girlfriend, Sue Clearwater, and her children, Seth and Leah. All three of which I still haven't met yet.

I rinsed out the Strawberry Shampoo in my hair and shut the water off. It was 8:17 and the social affair started at 8 o'clock. I'm late, and I still haven't picked out an outfit.

When I was nice and dry, I tied the towel around my body and walked to my closet. Being as I wasn't a fashion freak and didn't find shopping appealing, I don't have many clothes. A few pairs of jeans, shirts, etcetera. The basic necessities.

I finally decided on a pair of dark wash jeans and plain, v-neck teal tee. Comfortable, yet not terribly unstylish...I don't think so anyway. Over that I threw on a black sweatshirt. It ruins the outfit, but quite frankly, I don't really care. I'm not trying to impress anyone, and I won't _be_ impressing anyone. Forks is going to be just like Phoenix, unexciting and lonely.

And on that cheerful note, I went to my red junk truck Charlie bought me and started driving to the party. At least he knows me well enough not to get me some fancy car. I love my truck, I wouldn't want anything else to drive, not for the world.

What will happen when I arrive at the party? Will they talk to me, or will they choose ignore me? I'm betting on the second choice. But there's a chance—a very slim one—I'll get spoken to, right? Forks is a small town, and summer is ending in a week and I'll be starting school with them. I'm sure they'll want to know if I'm really the chief's daughter, so then they know not to hang out with me for fear I'll tattle if they do something illegal or stupid.

And if someone was to surprisingly talk to me, what would they ask me?_ Why'd you move to Forks? Are you enjoying Forks? What do you think of the weather? You moved here from Phoenix, right? Do you miss it?_ Ugh. I could see it now.

Some time between my worrying and curiosity I arrived at the party household. Even though my neighbor was hosting the party, they live a mile away, the forest separating our houses.

The house was massive, even bigger than Charlie's, and it was stunningly beautiful. It had wood paneling, and windows covered most of the house. It would be a dream to live here.

I got out of my truck and walked up to the door. I feel like a loser; do I knock or just walk in? If I just walk in, it may seem like I'm rude and they might get mad at me. But if I knock I may seem like a weirdo who's at her first party. Which is true.

Before I had the chance to make my decision, the door flew open to reveal a boy who looked quite intoxicated. Excellent, the first party I go to and there's illegal drinking. Thanks, dad, superb party choice. The teen walked—more like stumbled—out of the house, leaving the door open. I took that as my opportunity to go in.

It seemed as if the whole town was there; everywhere I looked there was a person. Is it just me, or does it seem like everyone just sent their eyes set in my direction? I blushed furiously and looked for the refreshment table. I became suddenly parched.

The beverages were between some type of red drink in a punch bowl (that's most likely been spiked), bottled water, and soda's in cans. Not wanting to take any chances, I chose the water. When I was taking a drink, a drunken voice spoke from behind me. "You must be Isabella."

My eyes widened and I slowly turned around. I'm not a fan of drunks, especially when they drive. My mom was dating a guy who became an alcoholic once, it wasn't pretty. I was thrilled when she dumped him, to say the least, before he could do anything rash. I spun around, "Uh, I prefer Bella."

He laughed boomed throughout the room. "My name isn't Bella, silly. I'm James," he offered me his hand.

_How drunk was this guy?_ "Um, hi," I said, not reaching my hand to touch his. I do _not_ want to touch any part of his body. It's just my luck. I actually get spoken to, and it's some drunk guy who probably just wants in my pants. _Please leave me alone_, I thought.

"You're ve-ery pret-t-ty," he slurred.

"Thank you?" It came out as more of a question. I'm not sure I can trust him, especially when he's drunk (and especially when I don't believe it myself). I pouted a little; all I want is for him to leave me alone!

"You know, I'd be happy to wipe that pout off your face," he offered, twisting his face into something that I guessed was supposed to be seductive. Let's just say he didn't exceed. To me, all he had was the word creep written on his forehead in sharpie.

"Er, no thanks," I told him. I started power-walking—at a speed that made it almost look like I was jogging—away from him. I don't know where I was going—because it's not like I have anywhere to actually go—but I started slowing down when I reached the stairs—there's no chance I'm going to break something, like my bone, because of creepman. And there were lots of people around, so I don't think he knows where I am anymore.

But I didn't want to take any chances, so I earnestly headed to the second floor and starting perusing.

The first door I checked looked like it was a work space, so I decided to not put that room up for inspection. The second door had two people heavily making out. I turned around and shut the door faster than you could say disgusting. The third room I check was a bathroom. It had one of those spa tubs, and two sinks. The rest of the rooms were bedrooms, and they didn't have much in them—just beds and a few other inadequate items.

By this time I figured James had forgotten all about me, so I was going to head back downstairs. Hopefully he left altogether. But when I reached the stairs, I found out that wasn't the case. He was there, at the bottom of the stairs, looking directly at me.

Crap.

He tried climbing up the stairs, but was swaying from side to side, making him go carefully slow. I took this as my cue to leave. But where to? I looked around frantic, trying to find a place to run. I spotted another set of stairs, leading to a third floor. I'm surprised I didn't see those earlier.

I bustled up the second set of stairs, leaving James on the first. "Bella, wait!"

I didn't reply. Instead I took the final step on the stairway. Straight down the hall I could see a room with the door wide open. I sprinted into the opening, shutting the door and locking it.

The room was divine. One wall was made completely of glass, and you could see the forest right outside. Another wall was stacked with rows upon rows of CD's and movies. What was left of the walls you could actually see were white, and there was a black couch in the middle of the room.

I meandered over to the CD's and surveyed them. They varied from Linkin Park to Yiruma, categorized by alphabetical and year. I have to admit it's a very nice selection. Hmm...I wonder what this person is listening to right now.

Clair de Lune.

Great. Just the type of song I need, one that brings back memories of my mother.

She used to play this song around the house whenever she had the chance. When she was happy, when she was sad, when she was feeling ill, when she was sleepy...

I couldn't stop the saltwater from flowing out of my eyes. It's still so surreal, not being with my mother. I grew up with my mother there when I woke up to the time I came back from school that same afternoon. She used to try making little food..._concoctions_, consisting of a pizza with about 50 different toppings, all of which shouldn't be even considered to be eaten together, let alone on a pizza. We usually ended up calling in for take-out afterwards.

My mother was certainly one of a kind, and I loved her for it.

I don't know what led me to do it, but I was crying, in the middle of a stranger's room, at a party. Totally un-Bellaesque of me. And before I knew what I was doing, I dragged my suddenly heavy feet to the black couch that was sitting in the middle of the room, and cried myself to sleep.

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It wasn't a very peaceful sleep. It primarily consisted of my mother, Phoenix, and nothing but. Our life in Phoenix, her ex-boyfriends and ex-future fiancé, the house, the warmth, the _sun_. Ugh, I miss it all so much.

A beep went of in my pocket. My phone. I flipped my phone open and it said I had three texts and five missed calls, all from Charlie. I'm glad I have a father who actually cares about me, even if he may not show it very well.

I listened to the two voicemails he left me. They both were asking if I was still at the party, when I was coming home, him threatening to come here himself if I don't call back. I sighed, I love him for worrying about me, but he's just overreacting a wee bit. It's just Forks, it's roughly about three times small than Phoenix.

I then continued to read the text messages. The first one read:

From : Charlie

_Are you still at the party? Where are you?_

Then I read the second.

From : Charlie

_Where are you?? You didn't reply, I'm starting to worry._

Sorry, Charlie. I sighed, and read the third.

From : Charlie

_Bella, PLEASE reply. You have a worrying father here!! Text me AS SOON as you get this. And I mean it, A.S.A.P._

I texted him back and told him I was sorry and that I went into a room and accidentally fell asleep. I also told him I was leaving now and that I'll be home in a few minutes.

I then proceeded to check my the clock on my phone and see what time it actually was. 3:46 _AM_. Gosh, no wonder Charlie was worrying.

I put my cell phone back in my pocket and got off the couch to leave, only to hear footsteps coming up the second flight of stairs, making the still-playing music I forgot to shut off slip my mind. This must be the person's room. The room I'm in uninvited.

Is it my lucky day or what?

I don't know if I should run down the hall and hope he or she doesn't ask questions, or hide in this mystery person's closet. I took the latter. I'd rather get taken in for questioning or get yelled at than to hide in some stranger's closet all night feeling like a stalker, and not even being able to text my dad saying I won't make it home because I'm in some random person's closet, because the keys on my Samsung Hue would be too loud. And besides, they would have to open the closet door to get their clothes anyway.

I threw the door open and sort of power-walked/jogged down the hall. Maybe I could reach the bathroom I saw at the end of the hall before the person saw me and hide in it. Then once he or she passes, I could quietly escape downstairs.

But my undevised plan failed. I reached three quarters of the way to the bathroom, only to bump into—literally—the person who resides and sleeps in the room I was currently just hiding in. Well, I would think it'd be that person anyhow. I don't know why it wouldn't be.

Being the cumbersome person I am, I stumbled forwards when I bumped into the mystery person, knocking him or her down with me.

This was utterly embarrassing. Not only did I invade this person's private items, but I had to knock the person to the floor as well. Yep, definitely an excellent start to my day.

When I looked up to apologize, I was met with a pair of piercing emerald eyes.

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And I'm tired of being all alone, and this solitary moment makes me want to come back home  
_[X4]_  
(I know everything you wanted isn't anything you have)

**Your Call by Secondhand Serenade**

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**Review, por favor. Constructive criticism is always welcomed as well. Especially when the chapters aren't the best, like this one.**

**Mike was going to be the drunk guy, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I love him. :D And I wanted to get James in the story somehow, and he _obviously_ had to be the bad guy. He may show up again later on, I'm not sure yet. (I'm quite unorganized.)**

**Also, I put a list of future possible stories I might do on my profile. I'd be pleased if you checked them out and told me your opinions on them.**

**Reviews are better than Clair de Lune.**


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